“Thank you!” I said, taking the card from Zarsa’s outstretched hand. I avoided touching her. All I needed was for her to divine the real reason I’d come to Iran. Even in her present state, she’d probably still feel obliged to turn me in to the authorities. Eventually Albert might put up a tombstone for me, but my epitaph would probably read “And She Was Never Seen Again.”
They left shortly after that. After a communal sigh of relief, Natch announced it had to be time for chow.
“Hey, we’re pretending to be regular people, ya mook,” said Cam, “and regulars don’t say ‘chow.’ ”
“They do if they’re Italian,” Natch replied, for which he got a punch on the shoulder, which erupted into a three-man wrestling match once Jet joined in, with Amazon Grace officiating. She didn’t have many rules. As far as I could tell the only things she wouldn’t allow were eye gouging and spitting. In the end she declared herself the winner and made the men carry her to the kitchen.
Dave shook his head at his crew, but the look he gave me as he followed them out of the living room spoke volumes.
How can one of them be the enemy when it’s so obvious they love each other like family? Why can’t I be wrong about this whole, horrible situation?
But he wasn’t. Someone on his team had telegraphed their position to the Wizard six weeks ago, which was why his informant, the werejackal, was dead today. Dave definitely had a mole. But neither Cole nor I had picked up any signals during the game that made us suspect one man over another. All we’d done was find out how much we liked and respected all three.
Chapter Twelve
The party continued through supper, just rations we’d brought with us, and moved into the kitchen as we transported our mess back to where it had originated. The room surrounded us with a cozy, college days feel despite the white-tiled walls that tried to make it resemble an OR. The sink and appliances, all stainless steel, surrounded a tile-topped island that had been furnished with four stools. These were covered with bright yellow material that matched the cabinet doors and transformed the room from nauseating to cheerful.
Cole was hunting soap for the dishwasher, Cassandra was scraping plates, and Cam had just begun to tell the story of how Dave had led the raid that netted two of the Wizard’s top men, when my ring sent a shaft of heat up my arm.
He’s awake! Alive! Whatever! Okay, calm down. How old are you anyway? Geesh!
I looked down at my right hand, trying to distract myself from the rush of excitement that made it hard to deny how much I’d missed my boss for the past twelve hours.
I nearly whispered the ring’s name. Not because I knew it meant “Guardian.” But because I loved the way the word sounded coming off my tongue.
Cirilai.
Like a long, soft kiss. And I valued both the craftsmanship and power Vayl’s family had put into the gold and ruby masterpiece that protected his soul. And my life.
I used my thumb to turn the ring, watched the gems snatch the light and throw it out again, a thousand times clearer and more beautiful than it had been to begin with. I wished I could do that with my life. So much confused me lately. I rarely went through a day knowing anything for sure. Maybe I could at least discover something concrete about Cirilai. Even if Vayl couldn’t — wouldn’t — fully explain the relationship it symbolized.
Oh, I knew the basics. In the Vampere world we’d be considered a couple of some sort. His
sverhamin
to my
avhar
. Certain rules applied, only a few of which I knew. He had to reveal anything I wanted to know about his past. In return — well — pretty much, I had to make sure he didn’t turn into a towering asshole, take over some small country, and eat his neighbors.
But deeper complexities existed within our bond that Vayl had promised to reveal over time. He said if he gave it to me in one lump my circuits would melt. I suspected if I knew the whole story I’d run to the nearest airport, crash the pilot’s lounge, and promise the first uniform I met my life’s savings if he’d get me out of town, like, yesterday.
And yet even if I was coward enough to run, I knew I’d return. Because something more lasting and powerful than gold and rubies connected us. Blood. Once in Florida and again in Texas Vayl had set those soft, full lips against my skin and sank his fangs into my throat. The first time I’d been offering him a chance to survive. The second he’d been giving me the ability to save countless lives. But, more than that, we’d found in those moments a bond so basic and pure that, while we silently acknowledged it, we never spoke of it. As if to do so might curse it.
Cam’s story distracted me from my thoughts. “So here I am thinking this is the easiest takedown of all time, when Dave steps up to the Wizard’s right-hand man to ask him a question. And this guy, JahAn, goes ballistic. Starts screaming at Dave, who’s kind of smiling, playing it nice and cool. After all, what can the guy do, right? He’s tied up nice and tight. But somehow his buddy, Edris, has wiggled free, and he’s the one we should be worrying about. But he’s staying nice and quiet in his chair. At least that’s what we think.”
Cam looked around the room, stretching the tension just enough to make even the guys who’d been there lean forward with anticipation. “JahAn is practically foaming at the mouth he’s so pissed. Dave is asking him how long he’s worked for the Wizard when Edris jumps him. Goes straight for the throat, and though we pull him off quick, there’s a ton of blood under Dave’s hands, which he’s crossed over his larynx. Plus he’s been knocked out.”
Cam shook his head, his eyes dimming as he remembered their fears. “Lucky for us, he came to right away and most of the blood turned out to belong to Edris. He’d scraped his wrists raw getting free. Turned out he’d just nicked Dave with a fingernail. I’ve seen worse paper cuts. The actual impact caused more damage. He had a hard time talking for a couple of days after that. Most peaceful forty-eight hours I ever spent in the service,” Cam said, chuckling.
The appreciative laughter trickled off quickly when Vayl entered the kitchen. I kept my seat, but I was practically the only one. As soon as he opened the fridge and pulled out a plastic bag full of blood the room cleared like an elementary school during a fire drill. Clatter of tableware. Mumbled excuses.
“Don’t worry,” I called after Dave’s people as they ran for cover, “we’ll do the dishes.” Apparently Spec Ops types don’t mind seeing blood coming out. Or being the cause of it. But going in? Different story altogether.
Within five minutes of Vayl’s entrance, my crew and I had the place to ourselves. Even Dave had left. Feeling guilty for sitting out the card game? Maybe.
Or
, my conscience, a country-club regular with flawless makeup and 2.5 child-star wannabes goaded me,
does he just hate to be reminded of who, and how, Jessie might have been if you hadn’t staked her
?
And suddenly I was back there, in the townhouse I’d shared with Matt. Barely moving. Barely breathing, three days after his death, dragging my butt to the kitchen because some ass would not stop knocking. I checked to make sure my gun’s safety was engaged before flipping on the light. I threw open the door. Took a big step back.
Jessie stood on the threshold. “Let me in,” she begged, looking over her shoulder as if she’d met the bogeyman and he was actually scarier than her.
“No.”
“Jasmine, please. They’re going to experiment on me! They’re going to do tests and shoot me full of chemicals like I’m some kind of lab monkey!”
I believed every word. She’d been turned by Aidyn Strait’s nest, and he loved his weird science. I said, “Jessie, go away. Don’t make me keep my promise.”
Her eyes flickered. Maybe the change had made her forget the vow we’d made. We had both believed that to become vampire meant one agreed to relinquish her soul. And the only way to get it back . . .